I'm as worked up as Alison

I had planned to send her off unsatisfied to her room, but now that I have her hanging like a piece of prime meat in a butchers hop, I'm finding it impossible to stop. I draw a 10-inch chef's knife with a razor-sharp blade from the from the knife block on the counter and turn back to where my victim is staring at me nervously.

“Let's see if you are as fine a prize as I hope.” I lower the pitch of my voice and try to add a little rasp trying to sound as menacing as possible. That tone, combined with the gleaming blade in my hand seems to have the right effect because Alison twists back as far as she can against the wall and whimpers slightly when I trace the tip of the blade carefully along her unblemished skin.

“Don't hurt me, I'll be good.”

“I'd hate to have to ruin this perfect body of yours ...” the thin spaghetti strap of her top is no match for the sharp German steel of the blade, “... and you will be good, I'm already sure of that ...” the other strap cuts away as easily as the first. If she is at all upset about me ruining the top she's wearing, she hides it well. It is only when the tip of the knife slides down into the gap between her breasts that she says anything at all, and it is clear that she likes the idea of playing the spoiled daughter of an elite family.

“Don't do this, no man has ever seen me like this!” Once the reinforced hem of the knit top gives way the knife slices through the thin fabric easily and her top falls to the kitchen floor leaving her breasts gloriously exposed.

Alison's small pink nipples are already puckered but I drag the dull side of the knife over each one until they tighten into rock hard peaks.

“Nice tits.” I chuckle cruelly, “If you end up being bought by those barbarians, they'll put gold rings through these beauties so they can lead you around like an animal.”

“Please Sir ... my father is very wealthy; he can pay for my return.” With my left hand I gently pinch the wrinkled knob of flesh and twist it just enough to make her wince. “Oh, I know who your father is,” My grip tightens for just an instant before letting go. “The good Baron and I go way back, that is one of the reasons I particularly wanted to snatch his baby girl.” I turn my attention to the yoga pants that hug her hips. I could just as easily remove these by pulling them down off her ankles, but slowly culling away her clothing like this is a nice way to establish the feeling of helplessness that I'm guessing Alison craves.

“Don't worry, girl.” the viciousness of my tone surprises me a little, maybe I should have been an actor instead of a teacher all those years. “I'll send your father a nice holo-vid of your auction so he can see just how much his pretty little princess is worth out on the rim-worlds.”

Once the last bit of her yoga pants had been cut from her hips, I step back to enjoy the view. My captive is wearing only sneakers with short white socks and a pair of lacy panties that have an obvious dark spot. The smell of her leaking juices pervades the kitchen and judging by the look in Alison's eyes she fully expects to be fucked right now. It would be easy enough to cut away the last scrap of clothing and take her up against the wall, or bend her over the kitchen table, maybe I could lift her back up onto the counter that she likes to sit on so much ...